


Wild Oats

by Selador



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Illegitimacy, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Nyx survives, yet another au idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 01:36:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selador/pseuds/Selador
Summary: “You are not the Chosen King, who we have long awaited for,” the old King says, “but you are of royal blood.”“What,” Nyx says.or: the royal bastard au





	Wild Oats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vox_Populi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vox_Populi/gifts), [adiosZombie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adiosZombie/gifts).



> you have... NO IDEA... how much i wanted to name this fic A Royal Bastard. NO IDEA.
> 
> but, i didn't want to imply it was at all connected to A Royal Soulmate, or suggest it would be as big a project as that. this is just a oneshot, with maybe some ficlets in the future
> 
> inspired by two separate prompts: "Promnyx au Nyx survives and tracks down prom while on the road trip? Only no one knew they were dating" and also "Nyx lives AU, where he and Luna finally get to meet up with the chocobros again -- and the very happy reunion between Prom and Nyx cause dead boyfriend is not actually dead :D"
> 
> i took these and combined them with this au concept i've been tossing around :)

The ring burns, and reality slows and darkens as several magnificent figures of light appear before Nyx. He tries to stand, and while he’s not sure if he intends to bow before the old kings of Lucis because he owes them _nothing_ , but his legs do not obey.

“ **Warrior…** ” says the largest one, which stands before him.

“Kings of Lucis!” Nyx calls out hoarsely. “Please! Please help me save Insomnia!”

“ **You will be judged,** ” says the figure. “ **If you are found wanting, the cost will be your life.** ”

Nothing happens. Are they waiting for him to say something? “Get on with it,” Nyx says, panting as he leans up on his elbows, at least.

Some long, tortuous moments pass. Glauca’s sword remains raised over Lunafreya, frozen in time. “ **You are…** ” the voice says. “ **This is a surprise.** ”

“What,” Nyx starts because he more or less expected to be incinerated by now. “What is?”

“ **You are not the Chosen King, who we have long awaited for** ,” the old King says, “ **but you are of royal blood**.”

“What,” Nyx says.

“ **It is sufficient. We have judged you to be worthy**.”

“Wait, what was that thing you said, about—”

“ **Use our power wisely**.”

And the world comes rush back, along with Drautos’ blade.

Nyx only manages a shield just in time.

…

When Nyx wakes up, Princess Lunafreya is no longer waiting for him.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since the end of the battle. A while, at least.

Nyx walks until he finally finds a working car, after miles of wreckage and carnage. The streets of Insomnia are silent, as dead as the bodies that litter it.

He wonders how many civilians died. Remembers the King’s words and reasoning that seem weaker and weaker with every body Nyx sees.

The city is in ruins. This attack wasn’t to conquer—this was to _annihilate_.

Nyx stopped Glauca, but what did that matter, in the scheme of things? Insomnia fell, just like Galahd fell, and he didn’t save anyone at all.

(No. He saved Lunafreya. Maybe. If she was still alive.

 _Please_ , let her still be alive. He failed to save Selena so long ago, he couldn’t—he couldn’t fail again.)

The car he finds working still has someone in it, who was hit by a stray bullet and swerved off the road. Nyx pulls out the body, makes a futile attempt to wipe away the blood, and gets in.

He doesn’t have a plan. Lunafreya is at worst dead and at best lost to the wind. He can only hope Libertus found her and got her out, and Lib’s good at his job. If he’s with Lunafreya, Nyx won’t be able to find them.

He can try to find the Prince, though. Prince Noctis and his entourage were heading to Galdin Quay. They might not have gotten there yet.

Nyx will be able to see Prompto, again. That, if nothing else, makes still living worth it.

And maybe he can ask the Prince what the _fuck_ those dead fuckers meant when they said he was of ‘royal blood.’

…

Noctis leads them on some hunts to keep them funded, but they still can only afford camping out and the vans only occasionally. No one complains; their grief cuts too sharply to complain. To even talk to each other, really.

They don’t talk about what they’ve lost. Noct’s wound is too raw and all-encompassing. He’s lost his _Kingdom_. His land. His people. His father.

Prompto knows Gladio and Iggy have both loss family. They still haven’t heard from Iris, but if the King is dead, the Shield is too. Prompto’s pretty sure Ignis has an uncle, who has his own family, but he’s certainly not going to confirm that any time soon.

Prompto doesn’t hear anything from his parents. He’s not even sure if they were in Insomnia during the attack. And even if they weren’t, he hasn’t spoken to them in months.

So, he tries to tell himself, no big loss. They’re either dead and he’ll never speak to them again, or they’re alive and not interested in ever talking to him again.

Which is fine. That’s fine.

Prompto’s fine.

(He also doesn’t hear anything from Nyx, but he... he doesn’t want to think about that. Prompto can imagine the end that Nyx had, the more they hear rumors from the refugees that spill into every corner of Lucis. “The Kingsglaive betrayed us”; “They slaughtered their companions and then turned on civilians”; “The Captain of the Kingsglaive led them”; “Insomnia is in ruins.”

He can imagine Nyx, trying to fight off the Empire with his comrades, only to get stabbed in the back.

His corpse must be among thousands left in the city.

It’s easier thinking about his parents.)

“Noctis,” Gladio says lowly, as they drive out to their latest hunt. “This one’s gonna be a tough one. You sure we’re ready?”

“Yes,” Noctis grunts, and Prompto feels his shoulders tense, a little bit. He trusts Noctis, no doubt about that, but… he’s been a little reckless, lately.

Which Prompto understands, of course. But, if _Gladio_ suggests that they not take this hunt, he must think that they’re just _not ready_ for it.

“We can check a nearby outpost,” Ignis adds in calmly. “See if there are any other hunts for us to choose from.”

“We can do this one, guys,” Noctis says. “We’re strong enough. We got this.”

And that’s that. Their Prince—their _King_ —has spoken.

The rest of the drive is quiet.

…

Noctis, surprisingly, isn’t wrong.

It’s a tough fight; dualhorns aren’t _easy_ , to take down, by any means. Their hide is so tough that Prompto’s not even sure his bullets are doing any damage at all. With time, though, the dualhorns begin to limp, slowing their dangerous charges against them.

They’re almost finished with them, Noct and Gladio preparing a final strike, when a shadow crosses overhead.

“Imperials above us!” Prompto yells.

“Crap!” Noctis yells back.

“Your Highness, perhaps we should retreat,” Ignis says, as he dodges a dualhorn and they watch the MTs spill out from the airship in distressing numbers. They’re all in poor shape. They have potions, Prompto believes, but that’s a lot of MTs, and potions don’t mean shit if there’s no time to use them.

Noctis’ hand alights with fire, and he yells “Take cover!” as he throws a firaga at the dualhorns. The three of them scramble away, as the dualhorns shriek as they die.

The MTs are getting closer. “Noct?” Ignis says again, as he readies lightning magic.

Noctis hesitates, and nods. “Let’s run,” he decides, and they all breathe a sigh of relief.

Which is a little bit premature, because they still have to get _away_. They race away towards the Regalia, but red lasers of light cut through the air, and Prompto has to dive to avoid being shot.

“No time to run,” Gladio calls out, materializing his sword again. “Get ready!”

“We got this!” Noctis yells out, warping to strike the nearest MT soldier. For a while, it almost seems like they would get through it all. They all got a second wind, maybe.

But they start to lose, after fighting for so long and being so outnumbered.

Prompto dances around the battle, shooting and throwing his grenades, trying to think of something he can do to distract the MTs long enough to let them run away.

Noct warps right by Prompto, striking down the MT he still needed to shoot down.

“Thanks, buddy,” Prompto says, turning around to cover his back, but when he does, he sees Noctis across the battleground.

 _What?_ he wonders, jumping to move back and face whoever just _warped_ near them. None of the three of them know how to warp, yet, so it could be a Kingsglaive, but they were _traitors_ and—

“Hey there, shutterbug,” says sixdamned Nyx Ulric, his clothes worn and ripped, smile so wide and fearless it’s begging the Infernian to burn it off. “Miss me?”

“Nyx!” Prompto yells, momentarily forgetting about the battle raging around them to dive into his arms.

“Oof!” Nyx grunts, as Prompto wraps his arms tightly around Nyx’s waist so he doesn’t lose him again. “I missed you, too!” he says, arms around him just as tight. Prompto buries his face into his chest to hide his tears. “But, uh, babe, we still need to fight these MTs…”

“Oh, shit! Right!” Prompto says, pulling away from Nyx, and readying his gun. “Let’s do this!”

With Nyx there, they don’t really need to do much at all. They have nothing on a fully-trained Kingsglaive soldier, and Nyx is _elite_.

“ _He’s okay_!” Prompto yells, when Gladio shouts when he notices there are _two_ people warping instead of one. “ _He’s on our side!_ ” And very clearly so, cutting down MTs left and right without pause.

Soon enough, the battle is over.

“Ulric?” Ignis says, when everything stops long enough to talk.

“Holy shit, Nyx?” Gladio asks.

“Glaive Ulric?” Noctis asks with a double-take. “You survived?”

“Your Highness,” Nyx greets. “Count Scientia, Gladio—”

Prompto cuts him off, because greetings and explanations can wait for later, but he thought his boyfriend was _dead_ and he’s _not_ and he still hasn’t even gotten to _kiss_ him yet.

The guys are watching, but Prompto doesn’t let that stop him from pulling Nyx down into a kiss.

It shuts up everyone, though, that’s for sure.

After Prompto pulls away, and they’re just holding each other, Ignis clears his throat politely.

“Prompto…” Ignis says. “I see you two know each other.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Prompto mutters into Nyx’s chest, realizes no one heard that except for his boyfriend who already knew it, and pulls away. He turns to face the guys and says again, “He’s my boyfriend.”

They all stare at him. “When did that happen?” Gladio asks.

“Uh,” Prompto says, “he saw me walk to the Citadel every day for training, and recognized me from before, and offered me a ride and—we got to talking, and hanging out, and, well. Stuff happened.”

Nyx giggles, a bit. It’s the kind of sound a person makes when they’re exhausted and at the end of their rope. Prompto shoots him a concerned look.

“‘Stuff happened,’” Noctis repeats. “Clearly.”

“Did you survive the fall of Insomnia?” Ignis asks Nyx. “What happened? Is there anything you can tell us?”

“Oh, yeah,” Nyx says, “I’ve got _lots_ to tell you. I even brought this shiny ring too,” he brandishes out his right hand, which has a ring on it Prompto’s never seen before.

“The Ring of the Lucii?” Gladio asks. “Wait—where did you get that, you shouldn’t have that—”

“Or be able to use it—”

“The _King_ had that, how did you—”

Noctis’ face contorts a bit, mouth opening like he’s surprised but brows furrowing like he’s angry or confused. “Only the King can use the Ring,” he says definitively. “And… you shouldn’t be able to wear it.”

“Right?” Nyx says, a wild edge _definitely_ on his face now. Prompto reaches out to his arm and back, hoping to calm him. “That’s what I thought too! But apparently, someone stuck their dick where they shouldn’t, because _I’m_ royalty!” He laughs, and Prompto feels it shake his body. He sways a bit, and Prompto pulls him to lean on him. “I’m a royal bastard,” Nyx mutters.

Prompto bites his lip gazing on Nyx’s tense face, and then risks looking up to see the guys’ reactions. He knows what the Ring is, of course, he knows the King uses it to power the Wall and access powerful magic, but Nyx could be wrong about _only_ the King being able to use it.

Right? He’s wrong about that.

Noctis’ expression says otherwise.


End file.
